


The Runaway Christmas Spirit

by mercscilla



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: CS Secret Santa, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-26
Updated: 2013-12-26
Packaged: 2018-01-06 05:36:12
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,268
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1103029
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mercscilla/pseuds/mercscilla
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly before Christmas, Santa Claus comes to Emma with a unique request. She can't know that by agreeing to help him, she will find more than she's looking for.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Runaway Christmas Spirit

**Author's Note:**

> **A/N:** My CS Secret Santa gift for _onceuponapainting_.  <3 The wish was a christmas themed journey with some unexpected enchantments and adventures and mistletoe, and I tried to fulfill it as best as possible. :D It's a future!AU, set after the new curse has been broken.  
>  **Disclaimer:** I own neither the show nor the characters. I don't earn any money with this piece. I just do it for fun.

Paperwork has never been her favorite part of the sheriff's work but it has to be done, and the sooner she's finished, the sooner she can go to Granny's and enjoy a hot chocolate with those famous tiny Christmas marshmallows. The thought brightens her mood and Emma starts to write with a bit more fervor than before.

“Excuse me?”

Startled, she looks up and finds a man hovering inside the doorway, his white beard and hair matching the white of his suit, the only spot of color his red tie. Emma doesn't recognizes him, he's definitely not from Storybrooke, and the knowledge sets her a little on the edge, her hand inching towards her gun.

“Please, I mean no harm.” The man holds up one hand as he walks into her office and stops in front of her desk. “I've come to you because you are the only who can help me.”

Emma eyes him warily, still not entirely sure he's as harmless as he proclaims. Strangers usually do not come to Storybrooke, but as long as he's not trying anything funny, she's giving him the benefit of the doubt.

“Who are you?” She asks. “And what do you mean 'my help'?”

The stranger gives a soul-deep sigh. “I am Santa Claus. My daughter, the Spirit of Christmas, has run off to this world and you're the only one who can help me to find her.”

Well, not exactly the Christmas miracle she'd been hoping for.

\- - -

It seems that teenager are all the same, no matter from which world they are. There comes a time when they rebel against their parents and no longer take what their parents say as given, and though the results are usually not serious, they can be when the teenager in question is a magical being.

“We had a...disagreement,” Santa smiles wryly. “Actually, we're having this disagreement for a few years now. My daughter doesn't want to understand why she cannot travel to the other realms throughout the year and has to stay in the Northern Realm until Christmas season. I've tried but she's no longer listening. And now...”

“She's run off,” Snow says softly. “And you're sure she's come to our world?”

Santa nods. “I can feel her here but cannot pinpoint her exact location. Jack must be helping her, using his power to shadow her from me. During this weather, it's quite easy of course.”

Hook steps away from the wall he'd been leaning against and crosses the room to join Emma. “Jack? As in Jack Frost?”

“Yes.” Santa nods again.

“You now him?” Emma glances at Hook.

“I've met the lad once, when I had to run an errand for Pan. Jack is quite the mischief maker.”

Santa laughs, the sound rumbling within his chest. “Jack is a good boy, but he's head over heels for my daughter, and together they're a force to be reckoned with.” The smile slips off his face, only to be replaced with defeat. “I want to search for them myself but I'm bound to the Northern Realm and cannot leave it until Christmas.” 

“But...you're here now?”

“Storybrooke is the exception of the rule, a place between both worlds. If I were to try and leave Storybrooke, I would not be able to.”

“That's why you've come to me,” Emma says.

“Without Spirit, there won't be any Christmas at all. You're my only hope because you know both worlds. Everyone else would get lost here or wouldn't know how to handle magic,” Santa pleads with her.

Seeing him like this strikes a chord inside her, a father torn between his love for his child and the duty he has, and though it won't be a joy ride to find his daughter, Emma knows she cannot refuse him.

“I'll do it.”

\- - -

From the corner of her eyes, she sees his approaching reflection in the car window and knows what he's going to say even before he speaks.

“I'm coming with you. I've been to the outside world before, I can handle magic and I know Jack.”

She has to bite back a smile at his tone, so determined, prepared to fight her should she disagree. It reminds her of Neverland and New York and all the times he fought for her, be it others or be it herself, and there's that strange sort of fluttery feeling in her chest again.

“Okay.”

He stops short and blinks at her several times. “You...you are not going to tell me no?”

“No.” Emma turns to face him. “You're right.”

Hook leers at her. “Am I?”

She rolls her eyes exasperatedly. “Don't let it get to your head.”

Hook puts his hand on his heart, a mock hurt expression on his face. “Now you wound me, Swan.”

Shooting him a half-hearted glare, she points at the car. “Just get it.”

“As you wish.”

Oh, she walked right into that one, didn't she?

\- - -

Shortly before dawn breaks, they leave Storybrooke, following the small Light of Christmas bobbing up and down in front of the windshield, and her car easily manages the high snow, thanks to Santa's enchantment. He offered to turn it into a sleigh but that's where Emma drew the line, much to Henry's disappointment.

They drive in comfortable silence, sometimes talking, sometimes just listening to the Christmas songs playing on the radio.

“Your world really loves this season.” Hook observes amused.

“Yes, we do.” She smiles wistfully. “Sometimes it is as if the Christmas season is the only time when your life seems less grim and your heart less heavy.”

“You know that feeling very well, don't you?”

Surprised, she looks at him briefly.

“Open book, love.” Hook answers her unasked question.

“Until I came to Storybrooke, I felt it every year.” The admission passes her lips easily when before she couldn't even admit it to her mother, and she asks herself when Hook became the person she felt the most at ease with to reveal such personal feelings.

The car rocks unexpectedly to an halt and she slides to the right, but Hook's arm catches her mid-fall and suddenly they're face to face, only a few inches apart. He reaches up to slowly brush a stand of hair out of her face, and her breath hitches.

“Careful.”

Cursing the light flush coloring her cheeks, she untangles herself and moves back, unable to meet his eyes. “Thank you.”

“You're welcome.” Something in his voice causes her to raise her head and her heart skips inside her chest at the strange sort of heat flickering behind his eyes. Since Neverland and New York, moments like this have happened more often, a touch here or a glance there, and time seems to stop for a few breathless seconds. It leaves Emma feeling startlingly off-balance.

A sudden bright flash of light makes them both jump, effectively breaking the moment, and they turn to see the Light of Christmas stop bobbing before starting to flicker in a fast, if Emma didn't know it better she would call it _impatient_ , rhythm. Then it zips to the left, towards a barely visible path between the line of trees before disappearing into the woods.

As Emma slowly drives off the road and follows the light, she can feel Hook's eyes on her.

\- - -

They've driven for no more than twenty minutes when snow begins to fall, light at first but soon it's so heavy they lose sight of the Light of Christmas and have to stop. They exchange an uneasy look, both knowing intuitively that not nature is at work here but magic, before carefully stepping out of the car.

“Do you see it?”

“No, it's too—” Emma breaks off as a wave of powerful magic washes over her and she doubles over, gasping for air.

“Swan?”

“From...there.” She gestures blindly in the direction she felt the magic coming from, hears Hook cursing under his breath, and forces herself to look up. For a second, she thinks the lack of air makes her hallucinate but then Hook curses again, and she knows she's not seeing things.

Christmas trees, real Christmas trees, decorated with lights and ornaments, appear out of the snow storm, some rolling, some flying, but all of them are heading straight for her.

“ _Swan!_ ”

In her peripheral vision she catches a blurry figure rushing at her before a weight slams into her, hands dragging and shoving her off the road. Emma lands on her back in a pile of snow, Hook's body covering her, trying to shield her from the oncoming danger, and she wraps her own arms around his shoulders instinctively, hiding her face in the crook of his neck.

But the magical landslide never hits them, the roaring and the wood splintering, it all stops abruptly, the sudden silence deafening, and cautiously, they lift their heads. 

“Bloody hell.”

Emma echos Hook's sentiment silently as she watches the Christmas trees dissolve into clouds of glittering red, green and gold, a thousand tiny pieces slowly floating through the air.

“I'd say we're on the right path,” Hook states, his warm breath tickling her face, and a shiver runs down her spine. 

“Are you hurt?” His gaze turns concerned as he hastily moves to the side, and Emma trembles again, missing his warmth instantly. She likes to blame her body's reaction on the magical attack but in the shadows at the edge of her mind swirls the truth, one that she finds harder and harder to deny.

“Swan?”

Hook's hand on her cheek jars her back into reality and she manages to give him a small smile. “I'm just cold. Magic and snow combined pack quite a punch.” She goes for humor, tries to deflect, but the way his eyes darken tells her that she's far from being successful.

As they walk back to the car, his hand lingers on her back, and for a brief moment, she gives in and leans into it.

She knows Hook loves her, the searing and all-consuming kind, and that notion scares her because her whole life, she had no one but herself, no one to rely on, and now there's someone who puts her first, follows her to the end of the world and battles magic for her, doesn't care about his own life as longs as she's happy and safe.

What rattles her mind though and stirs her heart is the fact that he doesn't expect her to love him in return, doesn't force her to fall into his arms. If she chooses someone else, he would let her go.

The thing is...her feelings for Hook have already changed, and it's just her own cowardice that's still holding her back.

\- - -

Their little guide leads them single-minded until they arrive at a crossroads. All of the sudden, it seems to be confused, not really knowing which road it's supposed to take, darting left and right, zips down one road, returns to try the other, only to come back and zigzag between the two again.

“Someone is trying really hard to make it as difficult as possible for us,” Hook says, narrowing his eyes at the obvious disoriented Light of Christmas.

Emma sighs. “We can't just sit here. I'll go and see if I can maybe...boost its magical compass or something.”

His lips twitch. “It's magical compass?” 

“Oh, shut up,” she mumbles without feeling as she leaves the car, her cheeks growing redder under Hook's amused smirk. She really has to think about her choice of words around him.

She's almost reached their poor guide, Hook following a few steps behind, when a faint humming starts in the back of her mind, and she stops her dead in her tracks. Something flashes blue in the distance, then closer, and closer again, and the temperature drops several degrees within seconds. The humming explodes into freezing pain, and Emma whips around, stumbling.

“Get back!” She shouts at Hook. “Get back to the car!”

Hook's eyes widen and he reaches for her arm, pulling her towards him and back to the car, and they've almost made it back when they suddenly jerk to a halt, their feet stuck to the ground, and instinctively, Emma grips his coat to steady herself.

“You two are really stubborn, aren't you?”

The young man slowly descending from the sky, tilts his head in consideration, his crystal blue eyes fixed on them, and Emma feels an unnatural coldness settle in her bones.

“Frost,” Hook says through his teeth, and the teenager smirks before waving his hand almost carelessly.

And the world goes blinding white.

\- - -

Wherever Emma looks, they're surrounded by ice and the sunlight shimmering through it changes its color from light blue to glittering sliver and back again.

The only source of warmth in this cold place is not so much the out-of-place fireplace but the young girl pacing in front of it, her golden eyes alight with the spark of determination. “I don't know what father thought by sending you. I'm not going home.”

Beneath the resolute mask, Emma can sense something else though, a child's hurt and confusion, the feeling of being dismissed and left alone, but most of all the deep love for a parent.

“Please, Spirit, you have to understand—”

“I do understand!”

“No, I don't think you do.” Emma starts forward, but Jack, who'd been lounging on a ice throne nearby, springs to his feet, his hand pointing at her warningly, and she stops mid-stride.

“Stay out of this, Frost.” Hook steps closer to her, glaring at Jack, but the boy simply arches an eyebrow, his mouth curling slowly, and closes his hand into a fist.

Grunting, Hook staggers back, his face twisting, rapidly turning pale, and Emma watches in horror as frosty, fernlike patterns spread across his clothes and skin, covering him with a layer of ice.

“Swan—” he chokes out between shallow breaths, jerking as the ice layer becomes thicker, and Emma doesn't think twice, summons her own powers and magic flares brightly in her hand as she turns towards Jack.

“ _Stop it._ We're not here to fight you but I will if I have to,” she says, her eyes hard as she meets the boy's gaze. Jack looks from her to Hook, then back again, his eyes cold and unreadable, and she tenses, a feeling of dread rising in her stomach as the seconds tick by.

“Jack...please, stop.” Spirit steps between them and rests her hand on Jack's fist. The boy shifts his attention away from Emma and to the young girl before him, and the change in him is astonishing, the hardness melting away as his expression softens.

“Iri, they—”

“It's not their fault,” Spirit interrupts him.

“Fine. A warning then.” Jack glances one last at Emma over Spirit's shoulder with dark eyes before relaxing his arm, opening his fist and entwining his fingers with Spirit's as the girl begins whispering to him.

Hook's breath scrapes through his throat as he pitches forward and Emma grips his shoulder to steady him, never letting the two teenagers out of her sight.

“Are you okay?”

He coughs a few times before straightening up and from the corner of her eyes, she catches a glimpse of his all-too-familiar smirk. “I'm alright, Swan. It takes more than a little bit of ice to put out my fire.”

Despite the situation, she feels a smile tug at her lips and is about to reply when Spirit finishes talking with Jack and turns around to look at Emma thoughtfully.

“What did you mean when you said I don't understand?”

“You don't understand what really would happen if you're roaming the worlds all year,” Emma says. “Christmas season just wouldn't be the same anymore.”

“That's what father said too.” Spirit sounds frustrated. “But why? Why can't I bring happiness and joy to humans every day?”

“Because you're not solving their real problems. Those would still be there, every minute of a day, and at one point, happiness just wouldn't be enough anymore to make people forget about them, and they would no longer know real joy,” Emma explains. “By coming to us only during the Christmas season and gifting us with the Christmas Spirit, you give us a reprieve from our daily trouble, even if it's only for a couple of days, and let us remember what true happiness and joy are.”

“I never...” Spirit's voice trails off, eyes sliding away from Emma's, and the young girl stares into the fire for several heartbeats before exhaling softly and looking back at Emma, a small smile on her lips.

“Thank you,” she whispers. “Thank you for helping me understand.”

As they wait for Jack to call forth another storm to take them all back to Storybrooke, the car and their little guide included, Emma meets Hook's gaze, and the pride and admiration shining in his eyes send shivers down her spine. Her hand brushes his and despite the cold around her, she feels warmth blooming inside her chest.

\- - -

Sitting at the counter gives her the perfect view of Santa and his daughter in one of the booths, sipping Granny's hot chocolate while they're talking, laughter and chuckles accompanying their conversation.

The bell above the door jingles and she glances up to see Hook and Jack enter the diner, the young man heading straight for Spirit while Hook stops next to her chair.

“How was it?” She asks.

“The boy knows what he's doing,” Hook admits. “How do you say? Mission accomplished.”

“I can see that,” she grins, reaching up and brushing a few stray snowflakes away from his cheek, her fingertips lingering on his skin, and Hook goes still.

He opens his mouth to speak but a quiet rustle above their heads cuts him off, and when they look up, they find one of those magical mistletoe hovering in the air, swaying slightly from side to side. It's the newest invention from Ruby and Spirit, a mistletoe that won't let you leave until you've kissed the person you're caught with under it, and Emma rolls her eyes as she spies Spirit waving her fingers at her.

“Swan,” Hook murmurs, and Emma's breath catches somewhere in her throat at the barely veiled heat in his gaze. There's something else in his eyes too, a struggle between guilt and desire, and a hint of disappointment that puzzles her before she understands. This is not how he wants their third kiss to happen, forced by magic and not their own choice to make. He wants her to take the last step, let it be her decision.

Something pulls in the hollow of her chest, her pulse racing as her hands go to the lapels of his coat, her fingers curling into the leather. She's making her decision.

“I'm not just doing this because of the mistletoe,” she tells him.

“Swan...” 

“No. For far too long, I've been scared of myself and let my insecurities get the better of me. Not anymore.”

A smile flits across Hook's lips then as he strokes her cheek with the back of his knuckles. “I've yet to see someone get the better of you, Swan.”

Her eyes close briefly at the gentle touch and when she opens them again, his own have grown darker. He leans towards her, his hand and hook settling gentle on her hips, his breath ghosting over her skin, and Emma finally makes her move, pulls him closer and kisses him hard.

They don't notice the mistletoe disappearing in a cloud of silver glitter, the tiny flecks falling around them like snow.

\- END -


End file.
